Mad
by Riverstoneemptythrone
Summary: Once upon a time, the Hatter Crime Syndicate was the leading power in Wonderland, kings and queens be damned. But when they chose to overthrow the White Queen and place another in her stead, that is when things went wrong. The Red Queen went too far, asked too much, and sentenced her friends to aging backwards, soon to be no more. And they can't have that. Down with the Red Queen!


**A/N Greetings, earthlings. Here, have a story.**

* * *

 **Chapter** **One**

* * *

Madra March (or Mad, as he preferred to be known) was enjoying himself. There was nothing he liked so much as blood, except maybe Kheft. He did like Kheft. Mad smiled and leaned over the person strapped down in front of him.

"Where's the queen hiding? Sing for me, little Tweedle Dee."

Tweedle Dee had his eyes screwed tightly shut, and he was crying. He was a pretty little boy, and no more than five feet tall, though Mad knew that Dee was exactly Mad's age-fourteen. Dee's black hair was sticky, and his skin was now pale from the loss of the blood that now painted his skinny body.

"D-don't hurt Dum," Dee whimpered. Mad pouted and grabbed Dees chin.

"Honestly, little Tweedle Dee, is that all you can say to me? Open your eyes, darling." Dee obeyed. Mad continued. "I assure you that if you don't do what I want, sweetheart, then I will harm little Tweedle Dum."

The only visible difference between the Tweedle twins was their hair; Tweedle Dum had dyed his bright red. Mad figured that that would make cleanup easier, for he had no intention of letting Dum be.

"I don't know where the queen is," Dee sobbed. "Please, p-please don't cut me anymore."

Mad hummed in satisfaction. "Wish granted." He jerked forward and sealed Dee's mouth with his own. Dee's eyes widened in terror and he yanked at his restraints, but Mad added tongue to the violent kiss, and there was no escape.

"No, no, please, no, not this again, please, please, please!" Dee begged in terror, crying hard as Mad climbed up to straddle him.

"I told you before not to lie to me, little Tweede Dee," Mad admonished, tapping Dee's nose with a long finger. The finger moved down to Dee's chest, and Mad pinched. Dee cried out. Mad giggled as he worked his fingers over Dee, making Dee gasp in pleasure and try to hold his breath.

"That's not going to work, hon," Mad said. "I'm going to make you scream." And make Dee scream he did, and gasp and pant and moan and whine as Mad drowned him in sensation.

* * *

When they were finished, Mad climbed off the table and started putting his bloodstained clothes back on. Dee lay exhausted on the stone, too tired to cry, listlessly watching Mad.

"Why do you do it, Madra?" Dee whispered dejectedly while Mad put on his shirt. Mad stiffened, but Dee kept talking.

"You used to be such a nice girl." Tears were starting to leak out of Dee's eyes. "Can't you be a good girl again? Can't you…" Dee made a noise of despair. "I was just the queen's servant, I don't know where she is."

Mad smiled, a cruel smile, his eyes devoid of anything but anger. It was the sort of anger where you are not aware of yourself, where you want nothing more than to hurt the person in front of you. The kind of anger when there is no logic in your mind, no anything resembling humanity. Just the desire to cause pain. Mad leaned over Dee and stroked his face, murmuring to him in a sickly sweet voice.

"Oh, little Tweedle Dee…" Mad's voice turned icy and vicious. "My name is Mad. I'm not good, and just because I didn't change what was between my legs for years doesn't mean that I am not completely and utterly a boy." Mad's last words were delivered with a snarl and a wrench of Dee's head.

"But-" Dee whimpered.

"Anyway, you weren't the queen's servant, you were her whore," Mad said his voice sickly sweet once more. "Hmm...and you're lying to me again, you bitch." He said it almost casually, but Dee flinched. "I did say I wouldn't cut you again, but I can bite you."

Dee's screams echoed through the chamber, and when they subsided into heartbroken sobbing, the word "bitch" was carved into Dee's arm, oozing blood.

"Shut up, dumb-ass," Mad snapped, pouring alcohol onto a rag and rubbing it against the crook of Dee's elbow. Dee almost choked in his haste to stop crying.

"S-sorry."

"I said shut up." Mad went for the needles they kept in a sealed cooler. Dee watched him. Mad tested the needle, then went back to Dee and jammed the needle into his vein. Dee flinched as Mad pushed the plunger down. Mad pulled the needle out and tossed it into the bin that was already almost overflowing with used needles.

"There," Mad said as Dee's eyelids started to lower. "See, we may not like you much anymore, but we do need to keep our guests in top condition. Don't worry, little Tweedle Dee. I'll take good care of you." By that time, Mad was speaking to nobody, as Dee was deeply asleep. Mad smirked at the unconscious boy before getting out clean rags. He hummed a little to himself as he cleaned away Dee's blood, sweat, and cum. He giggled to himself a little as he finished.

"Gotta take good care of our guests, now don't I? That's my job," he said conversationally to Dee, who was still dead to the world. "Usually, our guests don't leave. When I'm done with them, they go to Mally." Mad giggled a bit. "I take much better care of you than she does," Mad laughed darkly to himself. He tossed the rags into the laundry chute and stretched, his locked hands high above his head.

"Well, I'm done here. It was fun to play with you again, little Tweedle Dee." Mad said, carefully closing the door behind him. Tweedle Dee lay alone in the dark.

* * *

Mad sang a little song to himself as he went to the basement kitchen and began gathering things to feed Tweedle Dum.

 _Blood drops on roses and white empty smiles,_

 _Raindrops and teacups and words filled with guiles,_

 _Bright blades that sing like a dying bird's wings,_

 _These are a few of my favorite things._

 _Dark purple lilies and fire with ashes,_

 _Death knells and seashells and tears on eyelashes,_

 _Riddles and dreamings and songs I can sing,_

 _These are a few of my favorite things._

 _White naked bare bones and cities on fire,_

 _Rivers that dry up and wolves that are dire,_

 _Big snakes and pancakes and bright silver rings,_

 _These are a few of my favorite things._

 _When the doll bites, when the cake stings,_

 _When I'm feeling sad…_

 _I simply remember my favorite things,_

 _And then I don't feel so bad!_

Mad ended on a crescendo, standing in the middle of the kitchen where he'd ended up after spinning around the room to his own song. Slow clapping came from the door. Mad turned to see Mally.

"Oi, Mad. You singin' to yourself again?" she inquired, shoving past him to rummage in the fridge.

"'Ey, Mally. So what if I am?" Mad shrugged, returning to the cupboards. He watched

Mally's tail wave in the air, back and forth in an interested fashion, while Mally searched out the cheese.

"Ooh, nuffin." Mally said, a piece of cheese dangling from her mouth. Her mouse ears twitched. "I fink Dumth's up," she said around the cheese. Mad rolled his eyes.

"You don't say," Mad said dryly, picking up the plate he'd made up for Dum. There was nothing on it but a piece of bread, a slice of cheese, and a carrot. "I dinna believe we hafta waste food on filth like that," Mad grumbled, his accent coming out with emotion.

Mally shrugged. "They were our friends once, you know," she said.

"Maybe. A long time ago," Mad muttered, pushing past Mally's poofy skirt to get out the door. Mally watched him go.

* * *

 _ **End of Chapter One**_


End file.
